Chapter 19
Time of Your Life in the Fast Lane
FIONA
“Hey sis,” Ewan says, dropping into the chair next to mine.
I fold my arms across my chest and let out a huff.
“You can’t be mad at me forever. I was only trying to help!”
“Help yourself, you mean,” I mutter. “Besides, no one asked for your help, Ewan!” I snap, swiveling to face him.
“Fine. That’s fair. I promise to stay out of your love life from here on out. Though I didn’t know I was intruding on it. If you’d just told me…” Ewan trails off when he notices I’m trying to kill him with my eyes. Sadly, it’s not working.
“I wasn’t… Can we not discuss it here?” I gesture to the town hall as I turn back to the front of the room.
It’s still early, and it’s only about halfway full, but I have no desire to talk about me and Tre in a room filled with people who would love nothing more than to overhear some juicy gossip about the town’s only doctor.
“Fine. But I talked to him yesterday,” Ewan adds, a knowing look in his green eyes.
Part of me wants to ask what he said or if they talked about me.
But that’s stupid. What else would they have talked about?
Another part wants to ask if he’s going to be here tonight, but that would also be a stupid question.
I know he will. He’s at every town hall, and he’ll be just as interested to hear the latest news as I am.
This is the first town hall since we blew up the condo development at Hay Creek a week and a half ago, and things have been surprisingly quiet, which makes me nervous.
Of course, there was a lot of gossip, but surprisingly little official commentary.
They’re bound to make some kind of statement tonight.
I’m surprised they haven’t brought Tre in for questioning again.
I guess they’re being more cautious because of the lawyer his dad sent last time.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“Fine. We can get a drink afterward.”
“Good. What do you think they’re going to say about the bombing?” Ewan questions.
“No clue. Why?” I ask as my eyes land on Special Agent Connor Smith, who’s against the wall, near the dais, watching the room. He sees me and inclines his head.
“Well, they’ve got to be trying to catch whoever it is, right?” Ewan’s gaze follows mine. “And the fact that no one seems to have heard anything about it—other than it’s probably Tre—is weird. Most likely, they have no idea who’s responsible.”
I shrug. “I guess.”
“It’s got to be more than one person,” Ewan murmurs, running a hand through his brown hair, thinking aloud.
“Why? What makes you say that?” I know he has no idea Tre and I are working together, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’d like to know why he’s decided it’s more than one person.
“I’ll tell you later,” he comments softly, also still watching Connor.
“Whatever,” I grumble. The room has been filling, but there’s still no one on the dais.
The city council loves to make a show of filing in right on the dot.
I glance back to check if Tre is here yet, but he’s not.
He’s usually one of the last to arrive. Probably because he has to close up the diner or whatever.
“Are you looking for him?”
“No.”
“Uh huh.”
“Whatever,” I repeat as I return to ignoring him.
Several more minutes pass before the council members enter the room and take their seats. Jacob Nammier waits until the room falls silent, then says, “Good evening, everyone. I’m glad to see so many people here tonight.” His eyes linger on the edges of the room, and I turn to look again.
The room is packed. This is easily the most people I’ve seen show up to a town hall since I’ve been back.
I spot Tre in his usual place—leaning against the wall near the doors.
He’s wearing a black T-shirt and faded blue jeans, and his eyes are locked on me.
I wrench my own eyes back to the front, annoyed that I want to keep staring at him.
“I’m sure many of you are here for an update on the situation with Henley and Montank.”
There’s a murmur of assent and lots of heads bobbing around the room.
“Are they packing up and leaving town?” Tre shouts from the back. I want to laugh, but I force my expression to remain neutral.
Jacob’s eyes narrow at the interruption. “As always, we will have a question-and-answer session at the end of the night, and I request that all questions be held until then. Anyone interrupting tonight’s events will be removed.
“To that end, we have the sheriff here with us. He’ll be giving a briefing on the situation with the ecoterrorists.”
I raise my hand, and Jacob sighs. “Yes, Dr. Carson?”
Every eye in the room is on me, including Special Agent Smith’s, but I need to know where things stand. “Sorry, Councilman Nammier, I just want to clarify: this is being considered an act of ecoterrorism? Doesn’t that seem a little extreme?”
“At this point, no. Both of Henley and Montank’s active developments have been targeted and attacked. In both cases, high-powered explosives were used to destroy property on the sites. There is no other term that applies,” he states, his dark eyes on me.
I say nothing and merely nod as if I agree with him.
“Now, I would like to invite Sheriff Morris to speak.”
The sheriff lumbers up to the dais. He hasn’t been in to see me during the almost seven months I’ve been back, and I don’t know if he has a doctor outside of town or if he avoids doctors altogether, but he’s out of shape and middle-aged enough that I wonder about his blood pressure and cholesterol levels.
Jacob hands Sheriff Morris a microphone.
It feels like the perfect commentary on our current political system.
“As you’ve all heard, there have been two bombings on Henley and Montank property recently.
While there were no injuries to any persons, the damage to the sites was extensive, and I’m told the cost is in the millions of dollars. ”
“Don’t they have insurance?” Tre calls out, being a general nuisance. On the one hand, it makes sense for him to act the way he always has, but on the other, I want to tell his dumb ass to shut up. He doesn’t need to paint a bigger target on his back. Especially not with the ATF in the room.
“Yeah, why should we care? They’re polluting the environment, and they’re not even locals! Good riddance!” someone else shouts. It’s a man I don’t recognize who looks to be in his sixties.
The roar of people agreeing floods the room, and I look back to see Tre smirking. His eyes immediately meet mine. He really is an asshole. And an idiot.
“Deputies,” Sheriff Morris says with a nod, and as with every other town hall, they move down the aisle toward Tre.
This will make seven. It’s by far the fastest he’s been thrown out.
Like everyone else, I turn to watch. He looks bored.
And even though I no longer want to see them throw him on the floor and slap some handcuffs on him, I think he might want them to.
It would be the ultimate ‘Fuck you’ to his father.
His father, who is notably absent. But then my dad’s not here either.
I asked him if he was going to come, and he said, ‘Why bother? They’re going to do what they’re going to do. You shout until you’re blue in the face, and it won’t make a bit of difference.’
I’d say maybe Rich feels the same, but I doubt it.
Chances are he figures that whatever they do to Kalomish, it won’t affect him.
He has enough money to isolate himself from it in the here and now, and he probably believes the long-term consequences don’t matter, since he’s already in his early-sixties.
It’s exactly the kind of apathy that lets terrible things go unchecked.
One of the deputies reaches out to grab Tre’s shoulder, and Tre twists out from under his hand.
“How much are they paying you, Jacob? We all know you’re selling our town to the highest bidder, so how much are they paying you?”
The second deputy grabs Tre and shoves him toward the door.
As always, Tre has the good sense not to push it further than that.
Even so, it’s only a matter of time until he ends up in a jail cell.
I’m an idiot for ever even considering getting involved with him.
Unfortunately, I can’t get the idea out of my head.
Once the door closes behind Tre and the deputies, the room’s focus returns to the dais.
“As I was saying,” Sheriff Morris continues, “the property damage is in the millions of dollars, and we’re taking these incidents very seriously. We’ve put together a task force that is liaising with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, and we will find the responsible parties.”
I raise my hand again to ask if they have any suspects, but the sheriff ignores me. I lower it after a couple of minutes despite wanting to interrupt him the same way Tre did. But I have a pro-development, pro-authority, good-girl, lady-doctor image to maintain, so I don’t.
“In the meantime, I want to make it known that we will be providing additional security at the construction sites to stop any future events from occurring.” His eyes scan the room as if he’s hoping to see someone holding up an ‘I did it! It was me!’ sign.
After a moment, he passes the microphone back to Jacob, who prattles on about how the construction is a boon to Kalomish and we should all be grateful for the improvements Henley and Montank have in store.
Improvements like increasing conflicts with native fauna, which will result in a greater number of bears and mountain lions being killed because they’re too close to resort sites that were recently wilderness.
Or maybe he means improvements like the algae blooms that are certain to occur due to runoff from the nitrogen fertilizers they’ll use on all the grass they’ll inevitably plant.
Algae blooms that will kill practically every living thing in the rivers, lakes, and streams.